Butterflies
by Fledgling
Summary: [Challenge response. Onesided, RLxSB.] Remus Lupin recalls a certain incident many years ago, and regrets not telling Sirius how he felt. [Oneshot]


A/N: Written for Rei. Challenge response.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

_Butterflies_

The air was hot. A blazing summer heat swarmed restlessly over the Hogwarts grounds, stirring the grasses in a warm, stuffy breeze. Moony slumped, shadowed, underneath the shade of a great tree, a book propped open on his knee and a hand lying, as if dead, on the wet, green grass.

Remus Lupin dipped his head forwards, face furrowed in a frown. A slim finger picked lifelessly at a dog-eared page, the long, clean nails running over the rough pages. Neatly written cursive skimmed across the leaves of his book, and Remus suddenly gazed downwards, trying to blink away the dizziness gathering behind his temples.

It was hot. Everything seemed to be moving at a slower speed than usual, and every movement Remus made felt tired and sluggish. He raised his left hand halfheartedly, brushing away a lock of hair that had fallen distractedly over his eyes. The young teenager shifted slightly in his position, drawing in his leg out of the tiny ray of sunlight that pooled over his school robes.

There was a rustling sound to his left, and Remus felt someone plop to the ground near him. That someone seemed to be seeking shade as well, and Remus whisked his wrist off the grass, feeling a thin irritation, borne of weariness, overtake him. He had a guess that Peter was joining him because Sirius, or very likely James, had neglected him again. Remus cracked open one eye—and jumped in shock. Because it wasn't Peter at all; it was Sirius.

Remus pressed his back quickly against the tree trunk, feeling his heart ramming against his ribs. He had long since stopped trying to convince himself that the adrenaline pumping in himself was only due to surprise, and difficult it had been at first, Moony soon accepted that his interest towards his handsome, dark-haired friend was more than that of close friendship. Resisting the urge to stare at Sirius, he shut his eyes forcefully, desperately trying to quell the warm blood that was rising to his forehead.

Perhaps it was merely due to the warm air; or maybe Remus simply felt more daring, but an idea, like a dancing butterfly, flashed in his mind, making him shiver with bold excitement. "I could tell him," he thought, eyeing James who was still laughing arrogantly by the lake. "I could tell him now. We'll be alone; so there's nothing to be afraid of." His stomach was hard with knotted tension, and Remus took a sudden breath, cautiously edging closer to his friend. "I could tell him now…now would be a good time. Yeah."

Remus edged slightly to his left, holding his breath. Sirius was watching the sky with a slightly glazed look in his dark eyes, half-lying, half-sitting against the tree. His legs were splayed lazily on the grass, giving him a careless, arrogant appeal. Remus looked down at the grass, gathering his resolve. His heart hammered wildly against his ears. He moved over again, palms wet against the dirt, when there was the sound of running, and Remus jerked his head up to see James pant to a stop before him.

"Hey, Pads, look," James said. "Guess who."

Sirius clambered to his feet, hardly throwing Remus a glance. He snorted, then said, "Snivellus. How lovely. And looky—he's reading a book." He snorted again. "Precious." A biting sarcasm dripped from his words. There was a meaningful pause, and then Sirius said, "So, I'm up for some hunting. You game, Prongs?"

James laughed. "Of course. And while we're at it, we might as well bring Wormy along too. Get him to watch, and learn."

"Ha. And the coward'll probably run off and hide as soon as that greasy git turns his eyes on him. He never stays for the whole thing."

"—Honestly, I don't even know what he's so afraid of. We're here, aren't we? A little detention wouldn't harm him…"

Their voices drifted away as the two strode quickly towards their target. Watching them leave through the thinnest slit in his eyes, Remus's heart raced. Sirius didn't look back. Holding up his left hand tentatively, Remus swallowed, and brushed back a slick, sweaty strand of dark brown hair. The slim teenager turned his eyes back to his book, determined to shut out the feelings that was causing his throat to ache. He turned his focus to the heat, feeling it bang on his sides like a relentless tidal wave. 'I will read," he said to himself, forcing his eyes onto the cream-coloured page.

"…research for cures over the years have been futile. The late wizard Rohan Menbura, who was highly skilled with…"

---

Remus stared vacantly at his pensieve, watching as Sirius's face twisted and joined with his hair to become a spinning mass of pure black. There was a gaping hole in his mind where his thoughts had been, and in a wild burst of anger, he kicked the wide stone cup, causing the pensieve to clunk onto its side. Silvery-white mist slithered onto the carpet and seeped into the roan red strands, causing Remus, growling with frustration, to flip the pensieve upright again, furiously scooping the thoughts back inside.

"I never got a chance to tell him," he murmured suddenly to himself as he sank down into a chair. "I never did tell him." Remus hung his head, shoulders sagging while he battled the anger rushing in his chest. "I never got to tell you, Sirius. And now…"

He sighed again, wrapping his arms around himself as he relived the final moments of his best friend, no, secret lover's death, the curtain fluttering vividly in his mind. His body felt cold, empty, and goosebumps prickled his pallid body. Hot, burning hatred and guilt simmered beneath his eyelids, and Remus pressed an angry hand to his forehead, arm quivering. "I'm sorry," he said, throat aching. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."


End file.
